Rufflable
by DrawnToTheRhythm
Summary: It's like a switch has been flicked somewhere and the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you can imagine yourself with" HGRW


There was a large crash outside the door followed by a muffled expletive in that unmistakable voice. Hermione smiled to herself. Ron. Sure enough seconds later he appeared in the doorway to the Weasley's kitchen dressed in a too-large winter jacket, beanie and a pair of baggy jeans and when he saw Hermione his face lit up in a warm smile.

"'Mione, I didn't realise you would be here so soon, where's Mum?" He inquired, looking around distractedly for his mother. Hermione grinned and glanced over her shoulder at him before turning back to the sink with her arms elbow-deep in suds.

"Good evening Ron. She just went upstairs to have a bath I think, why?"

Ron threw his quidditch kit onto the table much to Hermione's momentary distaste - did he not know that people would be eating off the table in the morning where his sweaty shirt had been? - and yanked his beanie roughly off his head before quickly running a hand through his hair.

"I'm hungry, I thought she would at least have saved some dinner for me!" He announced as though it was the only logical reason for his disruption of the previously peaceful and quiet kitchen. Hermione chuckled to herself and grabbed the nearest tea towel to dry her hands.

"Your Mum said your dinner is in the oven and-" Hermione turned to face Ron and stuttered momentarily mid sentence before continuing, "uh, it, um, just needs re-heating."

"Awesome," he exclaimed with a grin, rubbing his hands together as he did so apparently oblivious to what he had just, completely unintentionally, managed to do to Hermione's insides.

Ron stood leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and an ill-fitting well-worn red t-shirt with 'Chudley Cannons blow my mind!' written across it in large orange letters but it wasn't the garish colour of his shirt that had caught Hermione's attention. Having removed his hat his hair was sticking up at a million random angles which, given its short length, had given it a spiky 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' style. She couldn't explain it but Hermione suddenly had the urge to reach out and run her hand through it and she almost did reflexively before catching herself at the last moment. She had a coy grin stretched across her face. Ron smiled innocently; clearly her silent gaze was starting to unsettle him.

"What?" He asked with a puzzled look and Hermione mentally shook herself but couldn't wipe the grin from her face.

"Your, erm, hair, it... you have hat hair," she finally managed to get out. He looked up and caught a glimpse of it in his reflection in the kitchen window. Hastily smoothing it down he frowned.

"That bad?"

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say.

"No! I mean, no, it... it suits you." The end of her sentence trailed off into nothing as Hermione turned beetroot red and began fussing with the tea towel in her hand as an excuse not to have to look at him. Ron frowned as he watched her vigorously drying her hands with the towel. For some reason her cheeks had turned as red as a tomato. Maybe she was sick?

"Mione, are you all right?" He asked in a concerned voice.

"Mmhmm, I'm fine, why?" she answered, clearly flustered.

"I don't know, you just seem a little pink. Maybe it's the heat." Ron moved to open a window and then headed straight for the oven.

_Damn straight!_ Hermione thought, staring at his back as he bent down to retrieve his meal _Although it has little to do with the aga stove!_

She watched as he went to the drawer to fetch a fork. They had had stew for dinner and Ron began to scoop it up and shovel it into his mouth at an alarming rate. That boy could put away a horse if he put his mind to it.

"Would you like a drink?" She asked to which he responded with a muffled 'water' and she picked up a glass and turned on the tap. Allowing the water to run gave Hermione a second for her brain to catch up - _holy crap!_ The thought suddenly struck her that she'd almost just got so turned on by the sight of Ron and his sexy as hat hair that she'd almost overstepped a large boundary and invaded his personal space in such a way that only a girlfriend would. Why had it even happened in the first place? It was only Ron. Thin, gangly, human eating machine with an inappropriate sense of humour and a lop-sided boyish grin. _Oh boy, I'm in trouble!_ She thought as it suddenly dawned on her that she was seriously attracted to Ron.


End file.
